


Moksha

by Michael_McGruder



Series: IX [3]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michael_McGruder/pseuds/Michael_McGruder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of Red Dwarf pick up the distress call of an escape ship from The Enlightenment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moksha

It was 3:46 am as Arnold Rimmer stood leaning over the wash basin, studying his face in the mirror. God, what had happened to him? He’d always thought he’d looked young for his age. Taut, spotless skin practically vacuum sealed against tireless muscles, thick chestnut hair, ten and a half stones of glowing youth.

That was three million two hundred and nine years ago. But who was counting? The only thing Rimmer was counting at the moment, were the white hairs on his head and the lines on his face. He frowned and scowled. They were like the canals on a relief map of Mars. Crow’s feet, more like ostrich feet.

Rimmer stared at the hollow, pigmentless shafts of hair flecking his temples. The colourlessness was doing strange things to his hair overall. Instead of getting lighter, his hair seemed to be getting darker, turning from the rich russet to a sort of dull metallic grey. Some people looked great with salt and pepper hair. They looked distinguished and wise. Rimmer just felt like a craggy grey ferret.

The hologram washed his hands, wiped his face, and returned to the empty sleeping quarters. Lister was bunking in Kochanski’s quarters this week. The pair had been hot and cold with each other on a pretty consistent weekly rotation, and Rimmer was the lucky goit who got to hear both ends of it.

When they were going cold, Rimmer was forced to listen to Lister whinge on about how if Kochanski could just lighten up once in a while and accept that Lister wasn’t Mr. Perfect Sensitive Deadie Alternate Universe Lister, and how she doesn’t even really know what she wants anyway and could she please make up her smegging mind.

When he had tea or lunch with Kochanski, he got to the sympathetic ear and shoulder and listen about how Lister’s drinking is getting bad again and how Lister should just grow up for god’s sake, not throw away his bike and his Flintstones cartoons but just try to take some personal responsibility once in a while. Rimmer would nod agreeing, dunking his biscuits, wishing his ear, shoulder, and every other part of his body were somewhere else.

It was even worse when they were going hot. The nauseating, saccharin nicknames (KK, Dafs, Ange, Cinnamon, Sweatpea, Squirrel), the idiotic giggling and tickling that went on at the table while the rest of them were trying keep down their lunch.

Listening to Lister describe in graphic detail his sex life with Kochanski turned out to be a rollercoaster of diametrically opposing emotions for Rimmer. At the end of the day his mind filed the knotted mess of feelings under J for Jealousy for brevity’s sake, but he refused to do much analysis over why and whom exactly he was jealous of.

At the moment, however, he was thankful for the seclusion, allowing him to wallow in existential self-pity in private.

As he lay in his bunk, Rimmer felt the electric tingling buzz through his limbs. He looked at his hand, which appeared fuzzy and ill-defined, as though half his pixels moved one space to the left, and the other half moved one space to the right. He balled his hand into a fist, trying to coax feeling back into the digits.

He kept pumping the hand in a squeezing motion until a million needle pricks replaced the numbness, and finally the needles gave way to normal sensation. Rimmer glowered. His software had been getting glitchy as well. He almost expected his legs to go wandering off on their own at any moment.

 

Kryten sat in the front pilot seat of Starbug, adjusting the gain on his instrument panel. For the past two days, Red Dwarf had been picking up some unusual frequencies that had begun to disrupt some of Holly’s systems. So far everything that had been affected were non-vital systems, but Kryten had hoped to find the source of the problem before it got any worse.

The mechanoid had taken Starbug scouting for the source on his own. Lister and Kochanski were in the honeymoon phase of the week and were not inclined to join Kryten at this particular moment. The Cat gave him a resounding “hell no,” and went back to sleep.

The only one Kryten hadn’t asked was Rimmer. His hologramatic software had been one of the systems affected, and the mechanoid wasn’t sure how effective his remote projection unit would be at the moment. Kryten had also decided it would probably be best not to alert the hologram to the situation until absolutely necessary. If he could get the situation under control before Rimmer noticed anything too out of the ordinary, so the better.

Holly’s face appeared on the monitor, slightly pixelated and one shade too yellow.

“I’m picking something up ahead, an distress signal. In range in twelve seconds.” Starbug’s comm crackled to life, relaying the staticy distress call.

_“Tzzzzchhhhs the escape craft Helios… tzzzchhhhhhip is breaking apart… does anyone read? Tzzzzzchhhhh need immediate evacuation…”_

Kryten punched the comm button.

“This is the shuttle craft Starbug 1. We read you, Helios, and are en route. How many aboard?”

_“Tzzzzzchhhhhhhzzzt.”_

“Please repeat, how many aboard your vessel, Helios?”

_“Tzzzzchhh two. Badly injured…tzzzzzchhhgrams…”_

“Copy, Helios. Starbug ETA three minutes.” Kryten switched radio channels and hailed Red Dwarf. “Starbug 1 to Red Dwarf. Please respond. Emergency.”

Holly’s screen split in two as Lister’s face appeared, rubbing his eyes.

 _“What’s up Krytes?”_ Kryten updated him on their situation. _“Alright, I’ll get Krissy, Rimmer, and the Cat ready to help accept injured to the medibay. I’ll connect with you back there,”_ he said, before flicking off the screen.

As Starbug approached the escape craft coordinates, Holly’s image distorted even further.

“Hang about,” Holly said. “That craft is the source of the interference we’ve been getting.”

The Helios appeared on screen. A sleek, elegant looking craft, glittering luminescent blue in the darkness of space. Pieces of its hull appeared to be splintering off the craft and evaporating. There was something familiar about the craft’s design. Starbug detected no mass or volume from the craft.

“A holoship?”

Holly’s screen bifurcated again and Lister appeared from the medibay console.

“Sir,” Kryten said. “The craft appears to be a holoship.” Rimmer’s _“what?”_ could be heard in the background.

 _“Holograms?”_ Lister said. _“I thought you said they had injured. How could they be injured if they’re holograms?”_

Video transmission from the Helios replaced the view of the craft, and a glitchy looking hologram in a red velvet and quilted gold lamé uniform with a tousled coif appeared on screen. The man appeared to be fragmenting in the same manner as his ship. Slivers of light fell from his image, leaving holes in his hologram, edged with raw, glimmering data.

_“This is First Officer Randy Navarro of the escape craft Helios. Our shuttle is breaking up, please respond.”_

“They’ve got some sort of holovirus,” Holly said. “That’s what’s been messing with our systems.”

 _“Navarro? Who’s the other crewmember?”_ Rimmer asked anxiously

“Can we safely bring them aboard Red Dwarf?” Kryten asked Holly.

“I’m not sure. If whatever is tearing them apart has been affecting our systems from two days away, I’m not certain our quarantine facility as-is can adequately contain the virus.”

_“Shuttle Starbug 1, we cannot hold out any longer, our systems are failing, please assist!”_

_“We can’t just leave them out there!”_ Rimmer said.

“Bring them aboard Starbug,” Holly instructed. “They can stay in the shuttle while I beef up the quarantine measures on Red Dwarf.”

Starbug zipped towards the Helios as fast as its thrusters would push it. As soon as it was within range of the Helios, the two holograms materialized in the midsection of the ship while the Helios finally dissolved into nothing.

 

Back on Red Dwarf, Rimmer was in a frenzy. He was pacing up and down the sleeping quarters, wringing his hands, running them through his hair, and cursing Kryten’s stupid flat head for shutting down communications.

“He can’t open up the comms,” Lister futilely explained for the 100th time. “The virus could transmit through the radio waves.”

“I don’t understand,” Kochanski said. “What’s a holoship?”

“We encountered it a few years back,” Lister explained. “It’s a hologramatic ship, with a hologramatic crew, able to travel at the speed of light and all that. Being a bunch of stuck up, emotionally weird megalomaniacs, Rimmer fit right in.”

“It figures that First Officer Hair Dryer Face would be one of the survivors,” Rimmer said bitterly. Lister looked at Rimmer with sympathy. He knew why Rimmer was so tense, and was trying to hide his fear with snippy quips. Lister had only learned about Nirvanah Crane just last year, and Rimmer made him aware that Crane was in the same conversation category as soup.

“How long is it going to take to adjust the quarantine measures?” Rimmer asked Holly.

“A few hours. Longer if you keep pestering me.”

“But they could be dying in there,” he whined.

“They’re already dead, Bud,” the Cat said, filing his perfect nails. Rimmer glared at him.

“Whatever destroyed the Helios could get in here and wipe you, or Holly,” Lister said.

“So what are we waiting for?” the Cat asked.

Rimmer sighed through his nose and sat down heavily. The numb tingling had returned to his arms and legs, but he didn’t think this was the best time to mention it to anyone. They might throw him in quarantine as well. The prickling had grown into a hideous sharp stabbing pain, but he’d deal with that later.

 

As soon as Holly finished his system modifications and allowed Starbug to dock in Bay 47, Rimmer raced down to the quarantine suites with Lister, Kochanski, and the Cat following behind.

Through the observation glass, he could see Commander Randy Navarro, looking worse than he had hours ago. His left shoulder and most of his left arm were missing, as well as a good portion of his face. He was laying prone on the scanning table, and sitting next to him was a petite redheaded woman.

Rimmer’s heart stopped. The pain in his limbs was almost unbearable, but he didn’t notice at all. All his senses locked on to one thing; Nirvanah Crane.

Her face looked drawn and tired, and her fiery red hair was limp around her shoulders, instead of in its normal up-do, but it was her. When she turned, Rimmer could see small patches of missing data dotting her temple and cheek.

“I have to go in there,” Rimmer said.

“You are out of your tree if you think you’re going in there, Rimmer,” Lister said. “You can talk to her through the glass.”

Rimmer switched the one way mirror to transparent glass and opened the comm link. His tongue darted across his dry lips.

“Nirvanah?” She turned towards Rimmer, and all the fatigue seemed to melt away from her face.

“Arnie,” she said, stepping up to the glass, pressing her tiny hand against it. Rimmer automatically touched his hand to hers, separated by the thick protective shield. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rimmer was rolling his eyes and making gagging motions at the cloying sickness of the scene, but the forefront of his mind kicked it to the darkest hole it could find, and soaked in every moment of his reunion with Nirvanah.

“What happened?” he asked, looking at the glimmering edge of the data loss in her beautiful face. For some reason it made him angry. It was like poking holes in a classical painting of a nymph with a pencil. It was obscene.

“The Enlightenment was investigating a research facility in this sector. Abandoned for centuries, we thought it was safe. It turned out to be a Simulant booby trap. By the time we realized what it was, the ship was already infected. It wiped everyone. Zeroed out the whole ship. Commander Navarro and I were the only ones who managed to escape. But…” She didn’t have to finish. It was clear they were infected too.

“We’ll find a cure,” Rimmer insisted. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Nirvanah gave him a patient, loving smile. She knew if a crew with a collective IQ bordering 300,000 hadn’t been able to create an anti-virus, as much as she loved Rimmer, she knew they were smegged.

 

Kryten took meticulous notes as Nirvanah explained everything she knew about the holovirus that had claimed the Enlightenment, and everyone else on board. Unfortunately she couldn’t tell them much. Because everything on the Enlightenment was connected to one system for faster file allocation, the virus spread like venereal disease at a Mimian brothel. They never imagined it would be able to slip through their firewalls. So great was their hubris that they never even contemplated a contingency plan should the unthinkable happen.

Now all that was left of their crew were Commander Navarro and Commander Crane, sick and dying.

The crew of Red Dwarf sat around a table, trying to figure out how to save the surviving commanders.

“Hang about,” Lister said. “Holly, how are you sustaining three holograms on board, one of them hard light?”

“I’m not,” replied the phlegmatic head. “The Enlightenment crew’s light bees are self generating.”

“Unfortunately the energy being expended to power their light bees are greatly taxing their ability to combat the virus. Draining their artificial auto immune system, as it were,” Kryten said.

“Can’t we power them through our system?” Rimmer asked with a tone of incredulity, as though asking permission to give a drowning victim mouth to mouth.

“I’m afraid that would be impossible. We cannot allow the virus to access our systems.”

“We can’t just let them corrupt!”

“We can’t let it get into Holly either,” Lister said with forced patience.

“We have to do something, we–” Rimmer cut off his complaints with a grunt of pain, balling his hands into fists, holding them to his chest.

“Rimmer, man, are you alright?”

Rimmer thought he’d answered with “splendisimo, you stupid gimboid twat,” but apparently the thought didn’t leave his mouth, as Lister repeated the question. He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he pried his lids open, looking at his arms. Or rather, looking through his arms. Rimmer was fading in and out of transparency.

“Oh smegging smeg,” Lister hissed. “Has he been infected?”

“We’d better get him into quarantine as well.”

 

To save Rimmer’s runtime, they had switched him off and Lister carried his light bee down to Bay 47. He looked at the little silver cocoon of metal. It was scratched and worn, but the little lights along its middle were still blinking, yellow in standby mode, and it was warm. The hardware was ancient and outdated, but Lister hoped the software ticking away inside was hearty enough to fight the virus. Not for the first time Lister prayed that strange Buddha faced Legion was as smart as he seemed to think he was.

Lister tapped on the glass to get Nirvanah’s attention.

“How’s Navarro?” he asked.

“Rapidly degenerating,” she said sadly. “Even if the virus could be stopped, I’m not sure the data corruption could be repaired. All of our master files were on the Enlightenment. All we have left is in our light bees.” Lister nodded and held up Rimmer’s.

“You’ll be having some company.”

“Arnold?”

“We think he’s been infected as well.” Lister watched her school her tired expression into clinical detachment and nod. He placed the silver bee in antechamber, where it was sterilized before being allowed in the quarantine suite.

Lister stuck his arms into the thick protective gloves bolted into the wall to turn Rimmer’s bee back on and toss it in the air. It took half a second longer than it should, and Lister was afraid it would clatter to the floor and never turn on again. Rimmer materialized before it did, and Lister let out a relieved breath.

“Arnie,” Nirvanah said, approaching him carefully. Rimmer’s eyes focused on her, wet rimmed and too shiny. They reached out their hands, tentatively, and their fingers made solid contact. He pulled her into a fierce hug, and she let herself be swallowed up by his large frame, burying her face in his shoulder.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered in her ear, running his fingers through her hair.

Lister couldn’t help watching their reunion, his heart swelling and his eyes tearing up. He sniffled and let them have their privacy, and went off to find the others. There had to be a way to fix this.

 

Randy Navarro looked like the leftovers at a cannibal buffet. His left arm was gone, as well as both of his legs, leaving jagged stumps of pixels. A hole had appeared in his chest, spreading to meet the gap in his throat. What was left of his face was contorted in an expression of pain. Rimmer felt sick looking at him.

“Commander Navarro?” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral and even. Navarro’s eye opened and rolled around to meet Rimmer’s. As he opened his mouth to speak, the fiery hole of data loss swallowed up his remaining eye and he gave a rattling moan. His howling was cut off as his head rapidly dissolved along with the rest of him, leaving behind a smoking bee that looked like a burnt out peach pit.

“Oh my god,” Nirvanah shuddered, covering her face. Rimmer was shaking. He wanted to flee, to run away from that horrible image. But he was stuck, staring at that dead bee. Stuck with the possibility of having to watch it happen to Nirvanah. Of it happening to him.

Rimmer wrapped his arm around Nirvanah’s shoulder, guiding her away from the scanning table. They sat on the edge of the bed and Rimmer pressed forehead against her soft hair, kissing her temple.

“We’ll find a cure, I promise,” he whispered. “We’ll fix this. I can save you, I promise.” The tips of his fingers brushed her face, careful to avoid the spreading patches of emptiness. Half of her right ear was gone and there was a hole under her jaw.

“I kept your letter,” she said, removing the little folded piece of light from her pocket.

“I couldn’t kill you for loving me,” he said. “I’m not worth that.” Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “I made you stay and killed you anyway.” She shook her head and made him look at her.

“If you stayed, you would have died on the Enlightenment. My data would have been lost with the computers. Everything happens for a reason, Arnold. We were given this moment to say goodbye.”

“No, no, no,” he said, tears streaming from his eyes. “I’m not going to give you up again.” He captured her lips with his, holding her face in his hands. He kissed her deeply, her mouth opening to meet his tongue.

Uniforms were removed quickly and without ceremony, shedding any barrier between the pair. Their skin pressing tightly together in the desperate need to get as close as possible. Rimmer kissed down her chin and throat, his nose nuzzling under her jaw. His hands ran down the side of her small frame, sliding down her thigh. The aching heat was building between Nirvanah’s legs as Rimmer’s mouth continued its journey down her body.

Rimmer paused at her delta, breathing in her scent. His hands ran up and down her thighs as she brought up her knees and tilted her hips towards him, urging him on. He kissed the soft folds of skin, his lips and tongue laving over them. Nirvanah took in long, deep breaths as Rimmer worshiped between her thighs. His mouth opened and his tongue flattened against her in broad strokes. Her breath hitched as the tip of his tongue flicked over her swollen bud. Rimmer’s tongue dipped between the folds, drawing out the wet heat between before returning to rapidly paint her clit with his flickering tongue.

Nirvanah’s breath became quick and shallow, her body arching and her thighs pressing against the side of Rimmer’s head as her muscles tensed up. One of his hands reached around her leg, a palm putting firm pressure just above her mound as he continued to devour her. She arched again, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth hanging open in a silent scream as her body trembled in orgasm, Rimmer’s tongue chasing after it. It slowed and softened as she came down, breathing heavily.

She finally opened her eyes and looked down at him, staring at her from between her legs. His eyes were dark and heated, his lips and chin wet with her orgasm. He wiped his mouth and returned to her, sharing her taste as he kissed her.

Nirvanah could feel the heavy throbbing organ pressing against her thigh. She reached down to stroke him. Rimmer growled deeply as she gave the base of his shaft a firm squeeze, and his strong arms tightened around her as her thumb rolled over the head. He reached down to take it from her and stroked the round, blunt tip along her opening. Her hands wrapped around him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as he started to push inside of her.

The head of his cock breeched her insides before slowly sliding out. He pushed in a little deeper this time before sliding away again. The third time, a little deeper still, teasing her, before she dug her nails into him, her teeth finding the little scars on his left shoulder. He rolled his hips, filling the warm burrow of her body.

Her grip tightened, holding on as his firm thrusts picked up pace. Rimmer groaned as his cock was held tightly inside of her, the slick wet walls pressing around his pulsing shaft, each thrust bringing the tip closer to her heated center. He could feel his orgasm building up and tried to slow down, wanting to keep this moment with her forever.

Rimmer brushed his thumb along her open lips, her tongue surfacing to meet it. He kissed her, continuing his gentler thrusts until she opened her mouth again, a strangled groan as her inner muscles contracted around his cock in a second wave of ecstasy. Rimmer’s hands gripped her hips and he fucked long, deep strokes into her until his orgasm spilled out of him. His eye squeezed tight enough to see stars.

The lovers lay warm and comfortable next to each other, recovering with soft fingers and sleepy kisses.

Rimmer’s eyes couldn’t help but dwell on the holes appearing on her body. They started as tiny pin pricks, a single pixel, and slowly expanded. They dotted her shoulder, limbs, and stomach. His broad hand rested above a small patch in her belly, trying to hide it, to will it away. Some of her toes were already missing.

“You look so sad,” she commented. “It’s okay, Arnold. I’m not afraid. This isn’t my first death,” she said with a wry smile. Holograms generally had a pretty morbid sense of humour, but Rimmer couldn’t find the humour. He couldn’t even find the energy to pretend.

“How did you die?” he asked.

“I drowned.” Rimmer swallowed and licked his lips nervously. Nirvanah wasn’t sure he was in the best state of mind for this story, but the pair had never been allowed the luxury of time. “I was on a science vessel that strayed a little too far away from friendly territory. We ran into a Sim ship. All we could do was run. Science vessels aren’t equipped with weapons, and only very basic shielding from natural radiation. It didn’t take the Sim ship long to shoot us down.”

Rimmer’s face was tight and muscles were bunching in his jaw. She ran her fingers down his face, kissing him. “The ship was falling apart. The five of us that survived the attack bundled into an escape pod headed for the planetoid we were studying. The Simulants could have shot us out of the sky at any point, but they didn’t. They followed us down to the planet. We landed in a lake, and when we tried to swim away, they took pot shots at us. I got one in the shoulder and couldn’t make it to the shore.” She smiled. “If I have to do it a second time, I’m grateful that I can do it next to someone I love.”

He was about to respond when she shuddered in pain, the holes under Rimmer’s hand widening enough for his hand to go through it. Her knee was gone and part of her face was dissolving. Rimmer couldn’t watch her die like this.

“Nirvanah, no, no, please,” he begged. “We can fix this with more time, I promise.” His eyes were wide and desperate, trying to think of a solution.

When it came to him, he kissed her one last time, his fingers lingering on the feeling of her soft skin. Rimmer switched to hard light and gently held onto her light bee. It was hot in his hand, like a burning coal. They both understood, but Nirvanah’s face told him she was prepared not to wake up again. Rimmer stared at her as long as he possibly could, trying to sear her face into his brain.

“I love you, Arnold,” she said as the data loss creped up her leg.

“I love you, Nirvanah.” His thumb brushed the power switch at the top of her bee and finally he switched her off.

Rimmer held the small golden bee in his trembling hand. It was hot but cooling, and it wasn’t smoking or burnt. The image blurred as tears dropped from his eyes. He kissed the bee and a choked sob escaped his throat.

“I promise, we’ll find a way to bring you back. I promise, I promise.” Nirvanah’s bee fell through the hole of data loss spreading in Rimmer’s hand.

 

“Hey, dudes,” Holly interrupted the crew’s brainstorming session. “Thought you ought to know that Rimmer’s virus has reached its final stages.”

“How long does he have?” Lister asked, alarmed.

“I say about 40 minutes on the outside.”

Four sets of chairs scooted rapidly away from tables as the group followed after Lister, who was pelting down the corridor as fast as he could.

When they reached the quarantine suite, Rimmer was sitting on the edge of the bed, alone, doubled over and shaking in pain.

“Rimmer!” Lister shouted through the comm. The hologram looked up at Lister and walked slowly towards the window. His hand and half his forearm were gone, and there was a hole under his ribs. Lister looked around for the other two, but Rimmer shook his head.

“Found anything?” he asked in a dull voice.

“We’re still working on it, but I promise we’ll fix this.” Lister watched in horror as Rimmer’s chest dissolved. It wasn’t going to take 40 minutes to finish him off.

 

Holly had spent the last several hours trying to figure out a way around the only solution to eradicating the virus brought on by the holoship, because frankly, the only solution was a bag of bollocks. He’d been half listening to the crew pitch ideas which were all useless, but he was hoping one of them might inspire a good idea.

They didn’t. Smeg.

Holly may have become a little bit senile, the JMC and the Space Corps and the human race may not exist anymore, but Holly’s mission objective had never changed. Keep the crew safe. Keep Lister safe. It was the reason he brought Rimmer back.

When his wisdom had been infinite, he knew Rimmer was the only person aboard Red Dwarf who could keep Lister going. He was the only person who could push Lister indefinitely. The one person who would never get bored of nagging the last human alive out of apathy.

Apart from heat and oxygen, Rimmer had become the most important life support component on the ship. Whatever happened, he could not let Rimmer expire.

“Lister, I–” Rimmer never finished his sentence before his image vanished, and his light bee dropped to the floor.

“ _RIMMER!_ ” Lister shouted, pounding his fist on the glass. He punched in the access code and ran into the room.

“Don’t break the quarantine seal!” Kochanski shouted, but it was too late.

Lister kneeled down and picked up the bee. It was cold and none of the lights were blinking. He hesitated before clicking the power button and tossing the bee in the air. It clattered to the floor. He picked it up again and held down the button for ten seconds before tossing it again, watching it hit the deck, dead.

“Smeg, smeg in hell, smeg, smeg!” Lister shouted, kicking a chair. He picked up the bee and met the others in the observation room. “That wasn’t 40 minutes, Holly! That was barely 40 seconds, you git!”

Holly’s display screen was black, with a message that flashed slowly, ‘Please standby.’ Lister looked at Kryten and Kochanski, who looked equally baffled. A mess of technical gobbledygook filled the screen, which Kryten recognized as machine code.

“Oh dear,” the mechanoid said.

“What does it say?”

“According to this, Holly has manually accessed Rimmer’s software to install a custom repair programme. Knowing this would expose his systems to the virus, he relinquished all control systems on the ship to auto-control, sealing off his own systems.”

“So, where is he?”

“About two-thousand g-gooks from here.”

“What?”

“He’s jettisoned his computer terminal from the ship.”

 

24 hours after Rimmer’s light bee had been shut down, it powered up again and he found himself in his sleeping quarters. Lister filled him in on the details of the past day. Rimmer found it difficult to gather the energy to be shocked at the loss of Holly. He was sure alarm would follow after the iceberg of numbness melted away.

Lister put a hand on his friend’s back, and gave Rimmer the object in his pocket. Rimmer held the little gold light bee protectively.

“We’ll find a way to bring her back, mate. And then we can bring Holly back too. I promise.”


End file.
